


Something Inside

by DanishPotato



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood and Injury, Confusion, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Unsettling, dark themes, disorientation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8441806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanishPotato/pseuds/DanishPotato
Summary: Jack was a normal person, or so he liked to think. But that wasn't going to last forever.





	

_He screamed, and felt liquid trickle down his raw throat, felt the urge to cough, saw the blood when he did. He couldn't stop. He had to get it out, purge the monster from his body and mind but as he emptied his lungs he felt walls press in on him, felt the suffocation as they tightened around him, and he screamed louder._

Jack's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding. It was fine. Just a dream. He swore quietly, unsettled at what he'd just seen, but even as it disturbed him enough to get up and make coffee, he forgot about it.

  
…

  
"You're not looking so good, sir. Are you okay?" Jack looked up from his breakfast to see a waiter talking to him. Jack wondered how bad he must look for a waiter to comment on it.

"I'm fine, just not been sleeping well." Jack replied.

"Alright, well don't wear yourself too thin," The man smiled. His cheerfulness annoyed Jack for some reason, but he knew it was irrational, so he just smiled at the waiter as he left.

_You should kill him._

…

  
Jack drunk two more coffees to give him the energy to go to the recording studio that day. Ethan, who Jack got on well with, didn't come in on Fridays, which worsened his already-dismal mood further. They were recording background noises for atmosphere, which were usually interesting but he couldn't find the energy to be excited for it.

At the studio he met up with Jane, who he was working with for the project. Jack had been about to say something when he saw her, but stopped as she gave him an odd look. "Are you okay, Jack? Maybe you should take the day off." Her voice was concerned.

"What? No, I'm fine. It's only you and me, right?" He couldn't understand why people were worried about him.

She nodded hesitantly. "And some guys who are bringing in props for recording."

"See? I can't leave you here on your own. It'll be fine."

_It's not fine, and it won't ever be fine again._

…

  
Jack felt his eyes blur into focus as a voice rang through his head.

"Oi, you awake?" It was Felix, his best friend. Jack was sitting in front of his computer, Skype open to the call he was having with the Swedish man.

"Sorry, yeah. What did you say?" He replied, feeling a bit delirious.

"The call was crackling for a while so I couldn't hear you, but what was that stuff you wrote in the chat?" Felix asked, sounding concerned.

"What stuff?" Jack opened Felix's chat and saw a string of written messages apparently from him.

  
_Jack_

_Oh jackaboy_

_I can hear you_

_Can you hear me too?_

_You should listen more carefully_

  
"The fuck...?" Jack whispered, reading. "Look I don't know man but I'm tired as shit. We can talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright then, just let me know if anything's wrong. And get a good night's sleep, Jack." Felix said before hanging up.

Jack stared at the messages, felt them burn into his eyes before he turned the monitor off. He couldn't think straight… must be the lack of sleep. He shut down his computer, and went to have a shower.

_Don't close your eyes._

…

  
When Jack woke up, the stars were still shining through the window in his room. He checked the time and saw it was just past 2 a.m. Sighing, he shifted his position, trying to get comfortable, and wished for sleep to come soon.

After a while of not sleeping, Jack couldn't keep his eyes closed and started staring out his window. A cold breeze had been blowing lately at night, so he'd kept it closed, but he wondered how much prettier the stars would be if he poked his head out through it. He closed his eyes again, and tried to sleep.

Jack couldn't tell how long it had been, so when curiosity got the better of him and he checked the time. It was 2:45 a.m. Christ, time was passing so slowly. He rubbed his eyes, they hurt from the brightness of his phone, and saw dots flicker in his vision. Exhaustion weighed down on him like chains wrapped around his body.

Jack could have sworn that hours passed, but when he checked his phone again it hadn't even been half an hour. He couldn't help but stare at the ceiling. Visions of a Skype chat he hadn't written swam before him, and somewhere in the back of his mind, someone screamed.

His throat hurt. He couldn't remember when it started, but now that he noticed, it was unbearable. His phone said that it was nineteen past three, but he refused to believe it had barely been ten minutes since he last checked the time… His throat felt like it was on fire. He wanted water, but fatigue pinned him to the bed; he was too tired to move.

Four minutes later he started to cough. His throat burned as he convulsed, kicked the sheets away without thinking. Liquid clogged his airway, sprayed onto his palm. He wiped it away numbly. The burning spread to his skin. His throat was overwhelming. Hand still felt sticky. Zigzagging patterns danced before his eyes. Blocked his vision. Shivers crawled down his spine. He had to get up. Had to get water.

He felt for the edge of his bed, pulled himself to his feet. His vision started to return. His legs trembled. The floor hit him seconds later. He coughed again, gagged as sticky liquid coated the inside of his throat. It trickled into his mouth. He spat it out. Tried to pull himself together. His legs were still unsteady. Could barely move. Couldn't think. Had to get water. The kitchen was so far away. He crawled towards it. Didn't feel the cold as it bit into his skin. Only burning. His throat. His hands. His head. Like fire.

Numbly felt the tiles under him. He had made it. He tried to stand again, clutching the edge of the sink. But his throat began to itch. Jack coughed again. He couldn't stop.

  
…

  
His body was aching when he woke up. Jack was on the floor of his kitchen, and his stomach hurt from lying on the hard ground. Why was he here? He couldn't remember. Oh. Wait. He'd had a coughing fit during the night, and gotten up to have a drink. His head was pounding… had he passed out while getting water? There was still a rawness to his throat that made him wince. He hadn't got any sleep last night, either... and it was still dark outside. He went into his room to get his phone, and was about to dial his work when he realised it was Saturday. He glanced at the time, and noticed it was only 4:22 a.m. _Fucking… ugh,_ he thought. It had felt like he had been unconscious for hours. He couldn't stand how slow time was passing, and how much his head hurt. He could have killed for an hour of sleep at that point.

_Really?_

…

  
Something cold was laying on his face. Opening his eyes, Jack noticed it was his phone. How long had he been asleep? He'd lain down on his couch to browse the internet while he waited for the sun to rise, but now sunlight streamed through his windows. It was half past ten, and Jack felt a bit better. Standing up, he looked around his and felt his heart stop. Dark splatters decorated his carpet, forming a line that led from his bedroom to the kitchen. It was smudged onto the tiles there, unmistakably blood. A tremor passed through his body, but he forced himself to walk past the blood to his bedroom. It was worse in there. It covered his sheets, and beside his bed it almost formed a puddle. He felt lightheaded at the sight. Had that been what he was coughing up the night before? He hadn't thought anything of it, but now looking down at his hands, he noticed the right was red. How had he not seen it before? His hands began to shake.

_Oh, just you wait._

…

  
Jack looked at the exterior of his favourite cafe, trying to decide whether to enter or not. He had come because he couldn't stand to be at home, but he wasn't hungry enough to eat anything and he didn't want to be around people. For some reason he entered anyway, taking a seat in a booth that sat in the corner of the cafe.

It was an odd little place, but he liked it for being small and quiet, and because they had waiters that came to your table—despite only being a cafe. When a waiter approached his table a few minutes later, he noticed it was the one he had seen the day before.

"Can I get anything for you?" He asked politely.

"Not yet, thanks," Jack replied quietly. The waiter nodded and left.

_They'll all burn soon._

…

  
Jack took the wet sheets out from the machine, and looked them over to see if the blood had washed out. He'd spent an hour scrubbing them in his sink, but had washed them afterwards as well, just to make sure. When he couldn't find any noticeable marks, he moved them into the dryer. He put his coins into the slot, set the machine and stood back to make sure it started. When it did, he grabbed his washing basket and went back to the elevator that would take him to his apartment.

_You can't face what's in there._

…

  
Kneeling down, Jack took out the metal brush that the internet had said would loosen the dry blood. As his head lowered, he heard a crackling noise. He looked around for the source, but couldn't see it. He turned back to the ground, slightly confused, when an ache began to form behind his eyes, making his head spin. The ache rapidly turned to pain; it was like needles were stabbing the back of his eye.

Pain shot through him; Jack's jaw clenched and he fought the yell that wanted to escape his mouth. He curled into himself, clutching at his eyes and hissing through his teeth. The pain intensified, and he whimpered, unable to stop the sound. _Shit, shit, shit._ He could barely think. Sparkles danced in his vision, colours flashed beneath his eyelids, and he heard the crackling noise again, louder.

A flash of pain, and everything snapped, the world fragmented, he saw flashes of light and wondered if his eyes were open because he couldn't feel anything, his skin was numb and he didn't know what was happening, everything was moving too fast but he couldn't see or hear or feel any of it, but the pain was there and he could feel _that_ , like being shot over and over and over again and it didn't stop. Then darkness flowed over the light, and his vision slowly returned, flickering dots obscuring the details, he felt his skin around him again, but he was collapsed on his carpet and it was a bright red and everywhere red and _god it was blood,_ more blood, it didn't stop and he realised it was his hands, they were pouring blood because of course they would when they had so many holes in them but _oh god there were holes in his hands_ and he only realised he was sobbing when the world blurred around him and he couldn't see his hands anymore, it was just a mess of red and he couldn't handle it, the pain was suffocating him and he couldn't think, he didn't want to be alive, _shit_ , death would be better, because it was too much and he couldn't handle it anymore, he wanted to die, die, die,

_Die._

…

  
He was running. He didn't know where. He couldn't stop. He had to get away. Somehow bandages were wrapped around his hands, but they were too tight and too loose because they didn't stop the blood well enough and it was soaking through the bandages, getting everywhere. The streets blurred in front of him, pain wracked his hands and his head, his eyes prickled and everything started going dark again but he didn't want it to, because if he collapsed he wasn't sure he would wake up again. He couldn't let himself black out. He had to stay awake. But he couldn't. He felt the world go dark, again.

_Finally._

…

  
_The creature stepped into the fallen's skin, like a jacket that didn't quite fit. He looked at the world around him, finally feeling it for the first time. It had taken effort to get to this point, but now he had fully awoken._

_And he would never sleep again._


End file.
